mer: (Default)
I was poking around my website today to get it updated--I had, she admits shamefacedly, not even put up a link to "Five Rules for Commuting to the Underworld," and have become just like every writer I thought I despised for being unappreciative of their own success back when I was zealously link-checking my three publications over and over.... Now, of course, I remember being that writer in 2004 well enough to understand my vows and jealousies of then, but what I did not foresee is how few people were going to be caring enough to check the website and be upset that it was not perfectly up to date by the time I had the level of success I have now.

Hilariously, I considered then the position I'm in now as "having it made." When in fact it is just as fraught with worry and feelings of being unknown as it was then, just... slightly different. But the distance between there and here is uncountably long when you're there. From here back, it's extremely countable. From here forward--uncountable again.

Ah, well.

Anyway, I was poking around the site, as I said, kicking away dead links and such, when I stumbled into the old-old-old website, and my travelogues. My very first trip On My Own (not with family, I mean) to Anywhere Important was to England in 1997 with [ profile] splash_the_cat. I was 22. I had mythologized travel to an amazing degree, which is why I think I'm shocked throughout the travelogue about how easy things were.

I'm deeply amused about my not understanding the insults of the bus driver, or why buses might take longer than trains, and loads of other stuff. I am so very 22 in this.

England, November 1997 )

April 2015

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